


Ex Animo

by assryder (VisceralComa)



Category: Mass Effect, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anachronistic, Experimentation, F/M, Genetic Therapy, MCIA, Modern Character in Andromeda, Modern Girl in Mass Effect, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Rating will change, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, chapters will get longer, gene splicing, modern character in mass effect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceralComa/pseuds/assryder
Summary: At the end of her life, a 21st century woman had her brain scanned to one day be implanted into a synthetic body to see the stars and travel across Mars, as her final wish.  Instead she's implanted and woken up 760 years since her official "death" 2.5 million light years away in the Andromeda Galaxy. Turns out the afterlife isn't so simple.





	1. Chronolog: 0.000.00

Warm thick liquid. Floating. Growing. Cold. Stretching. Choking. Calm. Waking up dry, memories fuzzy and odd. Who?

“Subject appears to be rousing, note her vitals.” A white clothed person said. The window beyond them revealed a long stretch of desert. It was bright, sandy and orange. Burnt and dry from the sun but the heat reached inside.

“Can you hear me?” They said. A head nodded. Their hand raised. “Follow my hand.” Their hand swept across the air as eyes tracked it.

“Who-” Cough, rattle. Aching throat that clenched. A cup pressed to lips. Cool water, but something was wrong. “Who are you?” Nothing familiar but the memory was hazy - distant.  

“Things may be a bit fuzzy, you’ve been in stasis for six hundred years. Bring up her file.”

“I’m… ” I stumbled to my feet, they pushed me back down.  

“Whoa. Just take it easy. We’ve only just begun the medication to reverse atrophy.”

“B-but…”

“Don’t worry things will make sense in time.” They waited. “Where’s her file?”

“I’m sorry doctor, there appears to be an error. There is no file on her.”

“What? Then pull up her implant.”

A long silence. The disembodied voice spoke again.

“Doctor. May we please speak in private.”

* * *

 

I was alone in a room. White and quiet, clothed in similarly white garments. It was flush to my skin, but not snug. It gave purchase when I pulled. The fabric was not cotton. _Cotton?_ How did i know what cotton was like? Not silk either. It was… fibrous. Microfibers. I knew that but that was rare, foreign - expensive.

I don’t know how much time passed but a lady came in when I felt the thirst on my tongue. Poised and perfect with short dark hair and kind eyes. It reached her smile.

“Do you know who I am?” She starts, slow and soft as she sits across from me. I shook my head. “You don’t remember?” I shook my head. She held a cup out to me and I drank the helping of water. “Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“You’re in Andromeda.” She said, waiting - expecting something. But I was confused. “The Andromeda Galaxy.”

“Galaxy?” This confused me. “Is this a facility? Ah!” I rubbed my temples, pulsing throbbing pain made my vision swirl. With pressure it subsided and she held a device up, it was clear with blue lights in lines and lettering.  I couldn’t understand it, not from this angle. “Space...am I in space?”  

“No.” She frowned but then smiled. “You’re on the Nexus. It’s located in space.”

“In the Andromeda galaxy?” Why so far away? I only wanted to see Mars for myself. “Wait...the procedure worked?”  

“Not exactly.”  She spoke quick to stall my thoughts.

A dull hollow excitement tickled the back of my mind. It was there, disjointed. Something was wrong. Could it have been the process, the transfer? There had been theories that it would feel like this at first until it connected again, until we remembered easier. The recordings were faint and just out of reach. Like a word on the tip of your tongue.

“You weren’t supposed to be taken out of cryo yet. You’re...unfinished.”

“Unfinished?”

“The upload was interrupted, your memories are there but, you’re not yourself. Not yet.”

“It does feel fuzzy, like… something’s missing.” I rubbed.

“We can help with that.”

“We?”

“The Initiative. We can help you with your memories, help you make sense of it all.”

“Oh?” I sighed, relieved.

“We only ask for something in return. You and others like you can help us.”

“Help with what?” I was still confused. The Andromeda Galaxy. That was too far. I remember telling them only until I could see Mars for myself, then no more. Why?

“With humanity’s survival.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh..... yeah. This happened.
> 
> MC in ME. MCME~ Sounds like a rapper name. I like this. 
> 
> EDIT: ANYWAY, this is just a prologue, hence the "Chronolog: 0.000.00" title. I am still devouring the game, and the book for Andromeda so this story is going to take a weeee bit longer to get anywhere. Gotta set up this beginning just right. Hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> EDIT 2: 
> 
> Spellweaver had a funny joke. "McME" sounds like a mcdonald's menu item. "Sprinkle of lemon, with an extra side of representation!" I about died laughing!


	2. Chronolog: 0.003.04

Dancing pinpricks of needles stabbed in quick succession and filtered beneath the surface of skin. It was cold and yet it sweltered and sweated. Condensation dropped across the glass panel before it hissed. Fog, mist? It huffed and smoked before clearing.

Light and dark shapes moved with muffled sounds that echoed in a circular chamber. A pod. Muddled faces beyond the glass shifted. When had they put me back in?

“Contact with the Scourge interrupted the upload and damaged the data core, but cerebral activity is normal, I’m more concerned with the frontal readings.”

“That will take time.  As the data is processed and accessed, the subject’s identity and psyche will fill in. Just make sure certain memories are-”

“You don’t think-”

“It may compromise the mission-”

Words, whispered, winding and wretched. Breath heaved. It was unclear what they were saying. A hand - _my_ hand pressed against the panel. Skin rippled, raising in bumps before it settled.

“Perhaps it even changed the therapy speed. Would the genetic structure have adapted this fast otherwise? We didn’t even get the full readings before the scourge hit, who is to say the full formula was implanted in the genetic materials.”

“If only we could have monitored the readings when the scourge hit.”

“It’s a pity they didn’t wake us before arrival.”  

“I heard the council had woken for it.”

“Whats done is done. There is no margin for error in this. We get one shot. One chance of giving us an edge.”

“And if we fail?”

“We starve.”

Another pinprick, this one electric and fire. A need to scream. No sound.

Dry. Everything was dry.

“How long until the process is complete?”

“By the current rate, thirty-four hours.”

* * *

Thirst was a terrible thing to suffer, especially as quenching it was tantamount to survival. I knew this. My memories informed me that I needed to intake liquids, soon. Or else suffer dehydration.  I recalled that there should be water here.

I’d been left here in this pod, in this room.  White as it originally was, their illumination was gone and something had jarred the whole of the ship. Whatever it had been. Low red lights flooded the room they had stored me in.

Something had gone wrong.

They - the doctor and the scientist - had stored me here.  Whispered that I needed to look the part, to stay hidden until I was complete.

The clothes they dressed me in were the same but there was a band fastened around my wrist. I never wore anything around my wrists.  I don’t think?

Footsteps sounded, hurried and jerky. A loud commotion. What was happening?

I checked the pod.  The glass panel to the outside was fogged, reflecting the red beams outside of it. It was large and cozy, enough room for one. There was a latch, hidden beneath the panel.  My hand caught it. Intuitive.   _Escape latch, like the trunk of a car._ I pulled, the pod opened with a hiss.

The sounds of voices got louder as I stepped out. I walked sluggish and lethargic as my legs dragged. They were blurry, long. Longer than they should be, longer than memory served.

_Wrong._

Voices pulled me further. Concern. There was a door. Or it looks like a door. My hand splayed against it.  There was no latch, no handle. How?

For a moment, it was quiet. I had no knowledge of where these voices came from, but I struggled to make sense of it. There was something familiar about one of the voices.   

_Pay attention!_

There was a seam in the middle of the door, almost flush against each other. I pushed, I tried to slide. Nothing.  No purchase.

The thirst was back. I panted and leant against the door. Was I trapped in here? I cast my gaze around. The room had several pods, pods I had ignored. A desk, bookshelves, and a screen on the wall. But most of the room was filled with the six pods. My pod lay open, dripping stale old air into the room.

With no foreseeable escape, I sat. The voices were still distant. Mumbled but as I stopped moving, stopped making noises - I could discern what they said.

“The plants are struggling.  The scourge damaged much dirt we had, and what wasn’t, isn’t nitrogen rich and we do not have the population to produce the necessary bacteria.” A concerned voice mumbled.

“I see.”

“It’s taking longer than expected. And with water shortage…”

“I understand.  But the crops that we do have, how much longer until they are harvestable? Last you told me, a few weeks.”

“I’m sorry, Director Tann but it is going to take months before we may even have our first harvest, much less recover what was lost during the collision.”

“How long?”

“I-”

“How long?” The voice was stressed.

“Another four months at best.”

“Thank you Dr. Camden. I know you’re doing your best. Please, alert me to any changes.”

No one else spoke.  It was silent.

* * *

The found me prone, with blood like sludge.  With a saline drip and water, they put me back in the pod.

I didn’t want to sleep. They insisted I must be _finished_ first.  I hope it was soon.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I tagged, the chapters will get longer but they are short at first to contain the disjointed memories of the MC. 
> 
> There is going to be references to the Nexus Uprising book, but I won't include spoilers. Just little things, so those who have read will understand where in the timeline it is. Just know, right now this is starting before the game.
> 
> A little reference for the chapter titles, it's a timestamp. Y.DDD.HH Y = year, DDD = day, and HH = hour. But not the measurement of time in game, but the MC's own sense of time measurements. Might want to pay attention to that, there is something there.


	3. Chronolog: 0.017.16 - 0.022.05

**CHRONOLOG: 0.017.16**

The room was quiet as they strapped me to a computer. Or I think it was a computer.  It was sleek and thin with a see through screen displaying blue lights. I remember when those were just concepts. The recollection of my past excitement, the swirling enthusiasm for technological advancement. My own desire to one day be one with it. Transhumanism.

As was the case, I settled for synthetic re-creation. They called me unfinished, but I could not discern what needed to be finished. I had imagined that perhaps my head was gaping, or there were holes in my skin yet to be restructured, but I was physically whole.  

I explored my body in the time between their visits. Each instance they put me back in the pod, and each instance I found the latch and crawled out. There were no mirrors, only my solemn reflection in the panel. Too distorted to really make much of it. I was content to watch my hands day in and day out. The creases beginning to form as I bent each finger around objects.  The latch, cups, the desk, and books.  There were many books. I read them, but there was much I couldn’t comprehend. Medical knowledge, scientific, and whole sections in another language. But the feel of turning the pages was familiar.  

I stared at my fingers, the creases faint but they would deepen.  Perhaps they may even resemble what they once were - many lifetimes ago.  

“We’re going to show you pictures.” The doctor said. Teeth like snow and a smile so pleasant.

“Pictures? Why?”

“To pinpoint where the memory upload failed and to identify if any memories were corrupted.”

“Oh.” That made sense. There had been many times where a download or upload had been interrupted in my youth and the entire thing was corrupted due to it. “If there are, will I need to have my memories reuploaded?”

“Sadly, we don’t have the technology anymore to do it.”

“But then…”

“We will partition those memories aside.” The scientist explained. “Like quarantining a virus.”

“Oh!” I smiled. I must have. The corners of my lips lifted.  I felt the skin strain. My skin wasn’t as elastic as it should be. Lack of hydration, likely.

“I want you to indicate if you recognize anything.”  

“Okay.” I agreed.

“Heart rate: 70.3 beats per minute.” The doctor relayed.

The first image shuttered to life in front of me. It was projected to encompass my entire scope of vision. A large marble blue sphere, spinning from a window getting smaller in the vacuum of space. And then it changed. It was a large structure, shaped like a sword.  Twinkling lights and then… blue. So much blue.

What is this?

“Heart rate: 95.6 beats per minute.”

I tried to ask but the memory shifted. I stood faced with large towering things, creatures. They tickled the back of my brain, familiar and - I wasn't sure.  Their shape, their legs- unnatural, bending _wrong_. Only three fingers, three claws. I stared into bright on black eyes, a gun directed at me.

“Heart rate: 105.3 beats per minute. It’s rising drastically.”

“It's….” my voice trembled as the images flashed.

There were more of them. Like raptors and a precise stare. Mandibles flaring.

Angry?

The sound of gunfire. Shots, screams. The tang of blood.

“No…” I whimpered and shook. More images of them shooting and running. Blue visors tracking humans. My people running - defending.

“Heart rate: 125.3 beats per minute.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t-” I rasped, trying to clear the images. But they kept coming. Prisoners, taken hostage. Ships. Markings, blue and red and so many colors painted. Carapaces. “We didn’t stand a chance.”

“Who are you seeing?”

My voice meant to lift to question but I shook.

“Yes?” The scientist pressed.

“They tried to kill us.” I couldn’t control the heave as my chest pounded and rattled.

“Stand back, her conditi-”

“Aliens…f-first contact.” I rasped between heaves, as the doctor strapped me down.

“Those were Turians you saw.” The scientist explained.

Another image. This one with blue markings. The blue made me flinch. I gasped as another memory. But this one was….twisted _different_ and yet _wrong_ . On a screen. Smaller hands pointing at a face of these things that painted over a turian - a beast of war. _Isn't he handsome?_ A voice - _my_ voice spoke proudly.

“Yes. They tried to kill us.” The scientist pulled me from my thoughts.

“Turians?” How could that be? _Turians?_ Aliens? No they...My head hurt as the three fingered hands were covered in blood - _my_ blood.

“Heart rate at 135.3 beats per minute. You need to step aside. She’s going into cardiac arrest.”

The doctor took over and the images stopped.

* * *

 

**CHRONOLOG: 0.018.20**

The scientist wanted to show me more. He explained they were imperative that they recover as many memories as they could. For humanity’s survival, for humanity’s _future_.

I used to dream about aliens. Used to...wonder what they’d be like. Used to read books and play games involving them and now…they tried to enslave us. They looked down on us.

He made me remember. Blue skinned crested aliens, beating - violating. Embracing eternity, they called it. They violated me.

The things they did, I remember it should have caused pain.

\---

The _Turians_ killed us. Responded with violence as it had been predicted so many times.  The asari raped us genetically, took what they wanted.

It felt rot on my tongue.

* * *

 

**CHRONOLOG: 0.019.03**

The scientist showed the Krogan next. Brutal, scary. Like dinosaurs. Brutish. Somehow… I didn’t think anything would be worse than the Turians.

Are all aliens monsters?

I...think they are.

* * *

 

**CHRONOLOG: 0.022.05**

I spend most of my time in the pod now. It wasn’t on, but it was safe and secure. I was on the Nexus. There was still a threat, they said. The aliens. Those were only three of them, but there was more - so many more.

I didn’t want to meet them. I only ever wanted to see Mars. This… this was too much.

“Is there a way to turn me off?” I asked the doctor as she made sure I had enough water. The scientist was missing.

“Turn you off?”

“Put me back. Anything. I-... I don’t want to _be_ if aliens are...are like that.”

“And destroy everything we’ve accomplished?” The doctor berated. “You said you wanted to see the stars. We’re in Andromeda now. And things… they’re tough.” The doctor sighed and looked away. “We need you.”

“But why me? Why not...weren’t there other people who uploaded?”

The doctor paused. “There were.”

“So get one of them. Put me back, or… or… make me sleep. Something!” I rasped.

“It’s not so easy.”

“Why?!” I shouted. _Yelled._

“What’s going on here?” The scientist asked.

It was a long moment.

* * *

 

C̗͇͓͉ͅA̺͓͍͜G͔̭:̨̤͉̝̙/͉͉̲̳̳̝>̡͇̫͍͔A̴̯̰̘̪̘̙̙D҉M̗̗͚͞I̪̩͖͙̭̯ͅN̖̫ ͎̟͍̩͈͎̮͟L̡̜̱͕̬̻O̞͍̖̲G̶̳̮͕̺͖

/̥̪͈/͠//̹͔̹A̞̯͖N̢O͝M̙̼A͇̩͉̤͍̭̪L̜͚͙̙Y͙̮̙͙ ̞D̳̟̺̼͢E̙̣͖̟T̛͈̫̮̖͔̱̼E̬͚̹̝͙͓͘C̪̘̘͙̺͈͇T̟̮͘E̫̱̹̭̥̻Ḏ̗̖̰̤̜̣ ͇̮͈̮W̠I͕̰̙͙̣ͅT̷̯͉̣̗̳̰̲H̡̞̫̼̮͉͉̯I̘N̠̞̗͔͕̜̼ ͇̤̞̼I̤̩M͍̗̥̥̗̬P͙̞͠L̟̥̩͉̣̥ͅA̧N̰T͜S͖̹̺͚̭̭̝͟.͉̝͓͙̼ ̭͉̥͖S̴̙C̭̣̰̣͎͎O̮̘UR͙̟̗̟̹G̱̰E ̴̜̯A̴ͅP͏̠̻̠P̮̜͉͎͖̠E͍̫̥̕A̩̣̠̭̬̻̼R̝̹̱̖̻S͜ ̘T̢̩̼O ̙̩H̙̞͖̼A͔̮̪V͈̲͍͙E҉̥̤̝̘̩̱̦ ̫̬A̴͚̫L̟̭͈T̨͍̗̪̟E̸͎RE̻͎̩̯̬̣͠D ̞͉͝FOR̤̘̱̥̜͠M͖̟̠U͓͕̜͇Ḽ̰̣̳̲A̤̭̦̗͕̲͝

/̰/҉̘͚̹͍̳̥̦/͞/͉̩͕̥S̻̭͓̩̣̭U̪̫͓̱͖̬͓B̹̠̪̳̠̯̻J̞̬̯̖͕͜E̙̟͈̞̹̭̻C̪͇͚T͟'̻͕͚͚̹S̮͕͇ ͢M̘̖̫̥̫E̱̙̺̙̙̘͕͜MO̞̹̞ͅR̗̫̖I̼̟̦̻͎͉ͅE̳͓̤̖̱̟̗S̶̯̘ͅ ̞͍͎͇̮̖͖͠D̢͖̜̱A̞̯ͅM̕A͍̳̘̹̻͎̲G̕Ȩ̘͓D̵̻̘̣̰ ͚͍̯̯͚I̱͈̤̳ͅN͔̝͚̭ ̡̗̞̼͍U̮̩͇̰̩PL̼͉̩̮̰͉O̸̬̜̩A̵͈̟D҉̖̘͓̱.͙ ҉̜̹̥'̙̹̜̜͓͕͕S̙̝̩Ç̼̝͚̝̳̮͕O̕U̻̭͔̞ͅŖ͉̣͓̜̮͈G̢͈̲̗̥E̢͖̖̱̣̟̳̥'͡ ͚̙̳̘̣͇̘ ̞̣T̟͎O̯͢U̲̲C̖H̫̥̖͖̼E̲͍͠D͚͕̻̬̠͘ ͉̼͎̝̜̣ͅP̭͔͙̞͙͚O̡͎͎̞̪͉̩̺Ḏ,͙̱̬̰ ̩̫̮̺͡P̬O͏͍̳̣̮T̖͓͎E͇͇͔̠N̗̰͙̤͉T̼͔̟͘I̷̦̬͍̱̙͕̦AḶ̮̩̼͝L͎͎̰Y ̗̭͙H͍͔̫̥̮͙ER̫.̠̳̹͇̥ ̝̣̣̬̗S͚͇UB̩̭̼̕J̧̟̤̼͙̭̮͓E҉̻̼̙̟̦̹̯C̞͙͕͟T͙͓͚̥̜͈̞ ̶AP̲P͙͉̫͎Ę͇͙̰̩̥̜A͇R̝̝̠̺͜ͅS̹ͅ ̱͈͍͓͔̬U̴͎̰̥̻͕̰Ṋ̠͕̱̺ͅͅI͎̟̟̳̺̰N̼͇̱͕J̖͇̭͠U̫̘̰͇̤͉̼R̥E̟͔̦̜̙̩͎D̙̱͕̮͎̱.̫͚̙̭͍ ̲̮̩͟Ņ̩O̦̘̱̤̼T̯̝͉̠̱̩ͅ ̬̪͎̮̞̯I͢D̢̰̦͔͕̖͕̝E̸̟̦̤̹̤̘ͅA̴̯L̨̝̯ ̨͈̯E̺͓̲̤DU҉͔̲͙̬C̬ͅA̜̫̻͈̕ṬI͙̼O̡͙͖̠̰̟N͙̫͙͚A̗̺̻̰L̶͚ ͇̤̗̞̥͖D̨͇͍̖A̡̭̜͙͕͓T̴̟̳̤ͅA̙͜ U̡̜̥P̯͍͚̘͎͘L̦O̜̞͕̪̻A̺͘D ͙̥M̨̘̰̩͎̻̻A͍̩̥͉͝Y͓͔ ̶͖͍̩̮̳̰ͅP̸̫̫̬̦͖R͚O̠V̰̺ͅE̺̝͝ ̨̰̠̱͇̺M̫O̫̻̟̼͙̕R̮̲E̪̬̱͉ ͖̩͈U̦̲̺̱̬̣͔S̛͖͍E̮̳̤̘ͅF͇̪̯̯̰U͚̬͔̠͉̬͢L͉̝̭͔͔̭ ̭ͅT̗̦̜H̳͕̭͙ͅA̵͕͇N͡ ̞̼̰B͍͉Ẹ͇̫͈̪H̥͈̹̠̮A͚̣V̖̹̻̙̪͟ͅI̘̠̻͔̭O̘̹̮͞U̙RA͚̠̜̥̖̯̠͟L̼͔̱͙̣ ̨A̞Ḓ̛̪̼̞̘J̝͈̬̯US͔̠̜̤T̼͉̠̺̲̱M̵̪̦͍͔̯̦Ę͔͈̰̫̹̬N̞͜T̡̹. ͔ ̙̠͇͈̺

/̞͓͎/̨/̨̞͉̞̫̜/̸̻E͈͇̩̤N̹̩T͔̣͉̜̘R͕̗͇̯̺A̱̝I̶͓̫͇͉̬Ņ̫̱̲ͅM̫̪̰̩͢E̤̯̬N͖̰̳ͅT̟ ҉̞̦̪̠P͖̥͙̺̲̖͉O̧͚̞͎̙S̸͖̻̭S͎͕̱̘I̤̼̜̩͎B̷̭͉L̜͓͍͘E̥̦̬.̛̱̭̟̻ ̺̰͕̰͙̪S̪̟͇U̳̫̟ͅB̰͕̥͕J̟ͅE̻͇͖C̜̗̗͖͠ͅT̼ ͇̫͙̟͉̦I͓̹̜̺̩̲S̠ ̛͈̞͉͚̳A̺̝̼̲̜͡ͅF͎͡F̘͚̫͕̳̻Ḙ̜͝C̱͍͓͟TE͔̤͓̝͇D̴̬̞̘̖̤ B̛Y͕̤ ̴̦E҉D҉̗U̫͎̬̱̙C̺̗̝̜A̩͕͉̭T̟͍̩̳̹̞̞I͚̪̱̦͇̼ON͔̟̪A̡̳̝͕̟ͅL ̣̘̭͙̤̠͘D͏͇̻̫A̸̖̲̞͍͖̞ͅT͜A̸̘.̫ ̰͖

/͎͕ͅ/͎̪/̟̝/D͚̭̗͖A̮̤͈̯̻̞̜T̲A̟͠ ̛̥͇͍̘I̘̤̮ͅS̨͍̹̫̭͉ ̝CO͈̰̲R̥͔͞R̴̠̮̹U̴̮̟͖̥̯̭͕P̯̮͓TED̺͚͍͠.͍̬͔͞ ̨̜̝A͓̫ ͚͇̤͓͉͠W҉̳̺̳̰͇̬͓I͔̫͖͙̪͖̪P̨͔̱̼̟̠̖̟E̖̟͓ ̭͖͚̘̠̖̪I̬͖͎Ș̨͙̹̲ ͓͚̪P͓͓̬̞̹̙E͈̫͍̥͜N̦̭͜DI̜̘N͕G͏̖,͍̜ ̛̝̝̺O͚̤͞N̩̹̺͖̞̭̤͜C̷E͘ ̝͖͙̝T̬̰̫̬̫͕ͅḨ͎̮̣̲̮̯̬I̼̻̯N̝͇͕̼͎G̨̪͇̜̘̺̘̣S̢ H̟̤̯̮A͎̜͈̥̜V̬͎̦̪̖E̸̼̰̠ͅ ҉̹͙̮̦̝͎S̺̪ͅẸ͎̯̹̠T̡̺T͠Ļ͖͉̗E̱͉͍͙͎D̕.̕ ̻

/̗̥/̙̝̳̗͚̞/̜/̰͚͓͍̰̠E͍͙͇̖͙̜̰N͔̠͟ ͙͕̳̜̤R̵͚͖͕O̞͓̬̱U͏̹̠̫͔ͅT͕̬̝͎̙̙E ̸̣T͍͙͠O̵̲̠̭̫ͅͅ ̘͠Ą̖̗͚̟̙͇ ̱̠P̺̮L̥͇̥̤̬̘̤A̢̭̤N̵̦̣̫̲̹͈E̢̱T͖̞͔͎̙̫̪ ̬̪̘̤C̠̰̱̫̗̜Ạ̱̼͖̣͠L̼L͜E͎̮̻̲̥̱D̸̼͕̭͚͎̳͓ ̤̯͕̱K̬͉̯̗A̶̫͈Ḑ͉̟̩̼A̬Ṟ̴̦̮̟A̟̝͕̞̰͟.̷̝̥̹͍ ̸͕̬̩͚̖S̝̪̰͝U̵͈̪̩̼̣͍B͎̗̭̙̜J͎̲̬̼̟E̢̜͖̦̝̪C͉̜̰̦̗͚̞T͈̹̰̖̙͓͚͡ ̡I̫̠̺S̟̲̘̙̼̣͈͘ ̜̤̭̻P̵̘̯͍R̤͔̝͖̦O̖̠͢N̠̯̻͈̦ͅE̤͔̳͇.̱̭̕ ͖̹͍̤͉̮

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've added some new tags! Please take a look at those. Plans are being updated as I write. Sorry for the short chapters, I've got some things to shift around so the chapters won't be as frequent as my other stories when I first start out. Mainly because I am still actively exploring every facet of the game and don't want to miss out on anything. 
> 
> Chronologs will be first person. The timestamp is important. There will be chapters in Third person outside of the Chronologs. We're going to be following two characters from here on out. The OC and Sara Ryder, with a few others for specialty chapters and events. I did tag "Original Female SQUADMATE" for a reason. 
> 
> The pacing for each chapter will seem jarring but it's part of the story I want to tell, both for my OC and for my Pathfinder.

**Author's Note:**

> Personal Blog: [comavampure.tumblr.com](http://comavampure.tumblr.com/)  
> Mass Effect Blog: [assryder.tumblr.com](https://assryder.tumblr.com/)


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